in which I am hypnotized by a painting

To the NWFF yet again to see the last of the samurai series I'll probably see--unless somebody slips an extra day into this week, I don't think I'll be able to make it to Seven Samurai. This night's offering was Zatoichi on the Road. It turns out not to be the movie that Te Amo Azul rented for us to watch on New Year's Eve--that one started with the masseur Ichi walking down a road, so you see from where the confusion could have resulted. This one begins with what amounts to basically a blackout sketch, or perhaps a teaser trailer for the movie: a 120-second vignette that shows you how cool masseur Ichi is, completely unrelated to the story. Once again, I find myself unable to figure out what everybody's problem is--why they want Ichi dead, why they want each other dead, why they don't seem to want certain people dead. Ichi is much more savage in the final battle scene than usual--there's a lot of lovingly detailed skewering. Of course, he is fighting two entire armies singlehandedly. And, once again, his heart is broken--I realize now that there are great similarities between the Zatoichi series and the Tora-San series: both characters travel from town to town, both constantly are getting their hearts broken, while more appropriate younger lovers get together through the protagonists honourable manouverings. If only Tora-San would occasionally get into a fight...
Final shot: the hero going down the road, shot from above.
Then I stayed for a screening of Stolen, a documentary about an unsolved art heist. The central character is a dashing old detective, without a nose, and with an eye-patch: he looks like a Dumas, pere, character. It features Blythe Danner, whom I adore beyond all reason, as the voice of Isabella Stewart Gardner, the founder of the plundered museum, and Campbell Scott, who has a very nice voice upon which I cannot seem to focus my attention, as her art procurer. Unfortunately, there's nothing extraordinary about this film's strategy. The director focuses on the colorful characters, who are a lot of fun, but doesn't seem to ask the questions one needs to know to get to the heart of the story. I loved the interview with the current museum director, who gets weepy as he describes visiting the museum as a 12-and-a-half-year-old (who, over the age of 12-and-a-half, describes their age in half-years?), and being psychically adopted by John Singer Sargent's portrait of Gardner. It's a great portrait I've never seen before, and I could imagine being hypnotized by it now as easily as at 12 (and a half). Featuring tinkly piano music.
Final shot: movement over water, seagull in frame, flies off (signifies the death of the dashing detective).